Drink, Drank, Drunk
by roxystyle011
Summary: Quinn and Rachel only get together when they're drinking.
1. Chapter 1

It's dimly lit. It's one of the reasons she was so attracted to the place the moment she stepped inside. It reminds her of something, she can't quite put her finger on it but she's smart enough to realize that it's something important and that's the reason she favors this place. It smells of stale beer and outdated peanut shells. One of those places that appears to not give a fuck but without the crunched peanuts on the floor, it would lose its appeal. Quinn would probably still come here, sentimental reasons and all.

It's a wide open space, only a few booths along the wall for privacy, but most of the time she sits right at the bar. Special circumstances call for a booth seat. There's a limited food menu. Bar pies, burgers, and peanuts. She never eats.

The dart board is always lit, though she's only ever seen someone throwing darts a handful of times. Next to it there's an old jukebox, and next to that there's a newer version of a jukebox but it never gets used. People tend to favor the oldies and that's another reason why she likes it. There's a pool table in the middle of the floor, with one too many spilled beers and it gives the cue ball a certain edge to it. She's seen many a drunk regulars using it for a stage from time to time.

The bar has a history to it. One that she's proud to be a part of. Her name etched in the wood of the bathroom doors makes it feel like part of it is hers. And a part of it is hers. The bartender, the regulars, she considers them her relatives. She even buys them something for the holidays.

"Ready for another one, Kiddo?" The bartender, Lucky, laughs.

Quinn shakes the glass and the ice clinks against the side, she nods her head and pushes the glass across the old mahogany.

"What time is she coming tonight?"

Quinn shrugs, "Normal time."

He checks his watch as he pours some Cranberry juice into the glass, "Little early, huh?"

She spins her cell phone on the bar after she checks the time, she has an hour to change her mind, "Guess so," she shrugs.

"This one's on me," he winks and nudges the glass back towards her.

He's been saying that since she first walked into the bar over 3 years ago, not one drink has ever been on him which is why she admires the place. No one attempts to buy her a drink, unless they're from out of town and have a death wish. She considers them family because they treat her like a younger sister.

They don't treat her like she's an expensive crystal vase that will break if handled too roughly. They don't watch her every move as if she's about to go on a killing spree, either. Lucky can tell when she needs a Whiskey on the particularly rough days, and he can tell when she'll want a beer so she can unwind. Though, he can tell that with everyone, so she doesn't necessarily consider herself special.

The only other person that could do those things, was the exact reason she was at _Murphy's _at 7 pm on a Saturday night.

Rachel.

Ironically, the only place she could clearly think right now was the place that she often _never _thought clearly. Alcohol clouded her judgment and tended to lead her down paths that ended in dead ends. The awkward mornings that ended with notes on bedside tables under _Advil_ and a glass of water.

The _first_ time she had drank, well, she'd rather not think about it. The second time, well, she'd rather not think about that either but her mind often didn't do what it was told.

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><p>"Who wants to play spin the bottle? Spin the bottle!" Rachel shouted before jumping down from her makeshift stage. Who even has their own stage? The Berry's, obviously.<p>

She dutifully sat at the edge of the circle, praying that the bottle never pointed to her. God surely could help her out on a request so miniscule, since He surely wasn't hearing her other prayers recently. She slid by unharmed and watched the others make fools of themselves. Jealous boyfriends and girlfriends, yelling over the music as their crushes hooked up with one of their friends.

It would be amusing if it wasn't all so sad.

She needed to drink more.

"Quinn," she turned to Kurt with a lazy smile.

"Hi," she replied and closed her eyes.

"Honey, wake up, we're leaving."

"No."

"No? Did she just say no? I'm not in the mood for this," he said.

Quinn giggled to herself as she pictured Kurt getting riled up, but she just didn't want to get up, the couch was too comfortable.

"Quinn, come on," she felt pressure on her knees and forced her eyes open. It was Finn. "Don't you wanna, ya know," he hinted with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No." her brows scrunched together in firmness.

"Quinn, get up right now," Kurt stated firmly, "I'm not making two trips."

"I'll drive her home," Rachel announced before burping loudly and laughing to herself.

Quinn laughed along.

"Yeah, no. Quinn. Up. Now. Or you're sleeping here."

"Slumber party!" Rachel yelled and Quinn sat up with wide eyes.

"I vote that."

"Quinn, are you sure?" Finn asked. "I thought we could…"

Quinn's face contorted in disgust and Rachel made a throw up noise.

"I'm leaving." Kurt stated. "Come, Blaine."

"Yes sir," he saluted before Kurt dragged him towards the steps.

"Bye Finn," Rachel pushed him towards the stairs and spoke over him as he attempted to convince the girls otherwise.

Rachel plopped down next to Quinn on the couch with her wine cooler and passed it over.

"Now what?"

"I have markers, we could draw on Puck."

Quinn's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly as she attempted to sit up. She fell back down and held her head, "My head hurts, you go."

Rachel leant back in order to get good leverage and hopped off the couch all in one swift motion, she held her arms out to balance her, "The earth is moving." She looked to Quinn in panic, "Oh my god, are we having an earthquake? Quinn, we have to get to my bathtub."

Quinn laughed and grabbed her hand, "We're not having an earthquake."

"We most certainly are!"

"It's just the alcohol, haven't you been really drunk before?"

"No!" she closed her eyes and began to sway, "Am I going to die?"

She was on the verge of tears as she looked back to Quinn for help, "No you're not going to die."

"I don't like this. What do I do? What do I do?"

"Shush, come here and sit down." Rachel hesitantly stepped forward and sat back on the couch, "Better?"

"No!" She began fanning her face, "It's hot."

"Breathe."

Rachel inhaled and exhaled a few times, "Maybe if I drink more, it will counter it and go away."

Quinn chuckled to herself, "Doesn't work that way, you need water and probably some kind of bread. I'll be right back."

Rachel gripped onto Quinn's wrist, "You can't leave me here to die!"

"You're not going to die."

"Alcohol kills."

"You're not going to die, stop saying that!"

Rachel began fanning her face again, "Now you're yelling at me," she inhaled deeply.

"Okay, okay, shhh, I'm sorry," Quinn replied softly. "Here, lie down, maybe that will help."

She guided Rachel to lie down on the couch and scooted a bit closer so she could sit next to her body, "How's that?"

Rachel waited a few seconds, "Worse, now I feel like I'm spinning. Oh my god, make it stop!"

"Okay, okay, calm down and open your eyes," Quinn took Rachel's leg and put it over the side of the couch, "There, you're grounded, do you feel better?"

Rachel continued to breath and opened her eyes wider, "A little."

"Can I go get you some water now?"

Rachel swallowed and nodded her head, "Please hurry."

Quinn bit back the comment she was dying to make about how dramatic Rachel was being but she remembered the first time she was so drunk that she was nauseous—not to mention for 3 months after—and took pity on her. "Okay, I'll be right back," she patted her arm and made her way back up to the kitchen. She hadn't been privy to a grand tour but she managed to find her way easily. She was able to fill two glasses of water and find a bagel on the counter. Her ability to sober up so quickly both impressed and scared her. Her parents were sneaky drunks, often appearing relatively sober, and it seemed that she had the same trait.

She went back down the steps to find Rachel with her eyes closed, softly singing, Quinn noted the song and smiled to herself.

"What took so long?"

Quinn laughed out loud, "I've been gone less than a minute."

"I counted to 130 in my head."

"You were just singing out loud, how could you do both?"

"I'm offended."

"Drink." Quinn reached her hand behind to help Rachel up by her neck. "Not so fast, you'll feel worse." She instructed as Rachel began gulping.

She lied back down and Quinn ripped off a piece of the bagel and handed it to her, "Eat that."

Rachel chewed slowly as to not choke and Quinn lifted up the brunette's legs in order to sit under them.

"You should be a nurse," Rachel commented after half the bagel was gone, which took about 10 minutes.

"A nurse?"

Rachel nodded and lifted up to get some more water by herself, a good sign that she was feeling better, "You have a soothing voice."

"Thanks?"

"I would know, I have a very soothing voice, too." She added, almost entirely killing the blush on Quinn's cheeks and turning it into laughter.

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Are you denying it?"

Quinn stared at Rachel with the straightest face she could manage at the moment and when the brunette dropped her head and raised her eyebrows just a bit in contest, Quinn felt her smirk showing and knew she lost once Rachel cracked a smile, "No," she huffed playfully.

Rachel held her hand out expectantly so Quinn could give her another small hunk of bagel. She sat up fully and leant against the back of the couch so she was sitting next to the blonde and not lying nearly on top of her. Quinn, not for the first time in the past 30 minutes, would internally shudder when Rachel allowed her left leg to dangle over Quinn's.

"You don't have to take care of me."

"10 minutes ago I was in a death grip because you were afraid that you were going to die."

"Well, I'm fine now."

"I don't mind."

"I'm not a needy girl drunk."

"Um what?"

"A needy girl drunk!" she replied, "I don't need people to take care of me."

"What is a needy girl drunk?"

"It's someone who is needy when they are drunk!" she whined.

"Where did you hear that?"

Rachel stayed silent.

"Well I've never heard of that so it's not a real thing," Quinn replied.

"Yes it is! Finn even said so."

"Ah, so Finn is the one."

"I didn't say that." Rachel replied stubbornly.

"Okay, you didn't say that. So when did Finn tell you that you were a needy girl drunk?"

"Earlier tonight."

Quinn smirked and Rachel began to argue, "That wasn't fair, you tricked me."

"Finn is an idiot."

"Does that make us idiots for dating him?" Rachel asked.

"Yes. Yes, it does."

Rachel pondered, "So I'm allowed to call you an idiot and you won't beat me up?"

Quinn rolled her eyes playfully, "Sure."

"I don't think you're an angry drunk, you're really nice."

"Thanks."

"I'm hungry, are you hungry?"

"Sure."

"Do you want to go home?"

"No."

"Really? I'm not annoying?"

"No."

Rachel used Quinn as a crutch to get herself off the couch, "Will you make me food?"

Quinn used Rachel's offered hand so she could also get off the couch, "I guess, what do you want?"

"Everything!"

Rachel bounced up the steps, and Quinn lingered in the basement, taking note of Puck, Sam, Santana, and Brittany sound asleep on the floor. She should probably wake them up so they could join them upstairs, and maybe find someplace more comfortable to sleep but Rachel's voice called her name at the top of the stairs and her friends were forgotten.

Rachel sat at the island that separated the kitchen from the living room while Quinn was forced to play a game of _Hot or Cold_ every time she asked Rachel where an ingredient was located in the kitchen.

"You're fairly warm."

"I'm not playing this game with you, tell me where the plates are." Quinn replied and moved forward.

Rachel smirked, "You're getting colder."

She stepped back and moved towards the cabinets, it was way easier to just look for the things herself but something had her going along with Rachel's little game. She finally found the plates and gave Rachel some pasta and another glass of water.

"Slow down, you're going to get sick."

Surprisingly, Rachel listened to her and the two ate together on the couch as they watched America's Funniest Home Videos. Quinn washed their dishes in the sink and found the bathroom without asking for any help, when she got back into the living room, Rachel was lying on the couch and QVC was on.

"What happened to what we were watching?" Quinn asked with a frown, QVC drove her nuts.

"Commercial."

"Well, put it back on."

"I can't find it."

"Let me see the remote," Quinn held her hand out.

"No."

"Give me the remote."

"No, they have the best things at this time of night."

Quinn sat heavily on the couch to announce her disapproval but Rachel didn't pay attention to her.

"You're hot." Rachel said after a minute.

Quinn turned with a raised eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"You're hot…" Rachel paused with a sparkle to her eyes, "In relation to the remote."

Quinn was up for the challenge.

She scooted closer and put her hand in between the back of the couch and the cushions, "Getting hotter."

She felt her way closer to where Rachel's head was, she had a sneaking suspicion that the remote was under the pillow she was resting her head on.

"Hotter."

Quinn was nearly hovering over Rachel's body, the object she was looking for was long forgotten. Her buzz from the alcohol was still running through her body, entirely blocking out alarms sounding in the back of her mind.

"You're on fire," Rachel whispered between them.

Quinn dropped her lower body, putting the slightest bit of pressure on Rachel, causing her head to tilt up just enough for Quinn to slip her lips between the brunette's. Her mouth was cold, and she still tasted like the wine coolers she had been drinking all night. Her cheek was hot under Quinn's clammy hand, but her nose was ice cold.

Quinn felt exactly how Rachel said, she was on fire.

Her body shifted off balance and she felt Rachel's leg disappear, breaking the kiss and breaking the hazy trance she was under. She began to sit back up but Rachel's cool hand guarded her back and held her in place.

"Grounded." Rachel said, her eyes still closed.

"What?" Quinn asked, peering over the couch to find Rachel's foot on the floor.

"The earth is moving again."

"Are you okay?"

"M'fine."


	2. Chapter 2

**Your eyes do not deceive you, I am in fact updating a fic. actually, i completed it. Sorry it took so long. Please excuse any mistakes. Next chapter either tomorrow or monday. 5 in all. you should probably reread chapter 1 because it's been so long. again, sorry. enjoy your weekend! **

* * *

><p>She loved this place. Then again, she'd love any place that let her drink while being under aged. It was where the Skanks hung out every weekend over the summer, and since she was a Skank now, she hung out here, too.<p>

"What even is this song?" Mac commented.

Quinn tilted her head as she heard _Loveshack_ come over the jukebox and rolled her eyes.

"I don't know," she lied with a shrug, "But if I find out who put this on, they're going to get a beat down."

No one knew her as Quinn Fabray. Most people didn't even know her real name. She was with Mac, Ronnie, and Sheila, and that made her good people. No one raised an eyebrow when they saw her nose ring, no one judged her ironic tattoo, and not one person batted an eyelash at her pink hair. She fit in, for the most part.

Jeremy, one of the skaters at the skate park they hung out near, was getting another round of drinks for their table when she spotted the one thing that could ruin her buzz.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," she mumbled under her breath.

Mac turned around with a pop of her gum and questioned Quinn, "Don't we go to school with her? Didn't know she was legit."

"She's not," Quinn replied as she put out her cigarette on the napkin holder. It was one of those bars. Mac wouldn't think Rachel was very legit if she found out that Rachel had been the culprit that put on _Loveshack_.

"What are you doing here?"

Rachel's path was cut short by a pissed off Quinn Fabray equipped with crossed arms and a cold glare.

Rachel swallowed her fear, "I come here every Friday night, what are you doing here?"

"Liar."

"It was nice seeing you Quinn, now if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting someone here."

Quinn could tell she was lying but she'd play along for the time being. Rachel drove her crazy, but she wasn't sure if it was a good kind of crazy or a bad one. She still had flashbacks about her one night with Rachel two months prior. She found herself occasionally thinking back to it when she couldn't sleep, and she almost always ended up having a dream about her when that was the case. It made her shiver. Rachel's wine scented breath, her cool lips covering Quinn's with the slightest bit of authority, and her giggle that occasionally drifted between them that let her know that it was a harmless drunken accident but reassuring her that it was entirely real. That the two of them, on different levels of consciousness, somehow both wanted the exact same thing at the exact same moment. Whether it was comfort or a warm body to be with, they both somehow ended up settling for each other.

Rachel drew in her breath, something Quinn noticed happening more and more when she would be around the girl, and she decided that she didn't want to torture Rachel in the middle of the dimly lit bar. She had appearances to keep up.

She went back to her table and allowed Rachel to continue on to the bar, where she tapped one of the gentlemen on the shoulder and asked him if he wouldn't mind sliding down.

"She like, can't even see over the bar."

Quinn ignored Mac's comment and continued to watch Rachel attempt to order a drink while she traced the rim of her beer glass.

She couldn't figure out the brunette's angle. She was sure that Rachel was there for her but she just couldn't understand why. They'd barely said one word to each other the morning they woke up on the couch together, and they never acknowledged anything about that night. How did Rachel even know that she hung out at the bar?

It infuriated her that Rachel seemed to know everything about her but she knew nothing about the brunette. Like, why was she so ballsy and determined?

Quinn got up from the table and walked over to the bar, ignoring Jeremy's catcall as he was walking back with drinks. She wasn't even sure why she got stuck with _entertaining_ him for the evening. Something about scoring weed and he took a liking to her. She had bigger things to worry about, like the fact that Rachel was wearing a summer dress at a biker bar and casually sipping water.

"Who are you meeting here?"

"My friend."

Quinn's eyebrow quirked, "Oh yeah? What's their name?"

"Big Ed."

"Big Ed?"

Rachel nodded, "Yes."

"You're full of shit."

"I understand that you have appearances to keep up but you don't have to swear at me."

"Do you think there's someone named 'Big Ed' at every bar like this?"

"Presumably, yes."

"Just go home."

"Not without you."

"I'm not leaving with you."

Rachel stood her ground, much to Quinn's dismay, "Then I'm not leaving."

Her confidence had Quinn quite intrigued.

"Did you come here just to bother me?"

"No, I came here to talk."

"You want to talk?" Rachel nodded, "About what?"

"We missed you the other day at bowling."

She snorted under her breath. She'd gotten the Facebook invite but there was no way in hell that she would be caught dead in a bowling alley with the glee club. It was so childish and innocent. She'd rather hang out at the _7/11_ than go to the _Memory Lanes _bowling alley.

"Pathetic."

"You have a lot of resentment for a group of people that's always been there for you."

Quinn bit her tongue. Rachel wasn't the focal point of her rage, she was a mere bystander that tended to get too close to the battle grounds.

"How did you know where I was?"

Rachel glanced down and slightly coughed into her palm.

Quinn didn't catch what she said, but she knew that she said something that would potentially get her in trouble, "Sorry, what?"

Rachel huffed, as if it was a whole 'nother form of inconvenience entirely, "I followed you."

Part of her, the one that allowed her to smirk to herself, kind of liked the idea of someone following her. It excited her a bit to realize that someone spent time out of their day to watch what she did with her's. The bigger part, the one that had her eyes growing rabidly, was furious.

"You followed me?"

Rachel nodded.

"For how long?"

Once again, Rachel masked her voice when she replied to Quinn.

"How. Long."

"Just since you left Thompson park."

Quinn nodded but then started to silently think about all she did between leaving Thompson Park and arriving at the _Pour_ _House_. Tattoo parlor, pizza place, the arcade on Main, Griffin skate park, Dunkin' Donuts…she was all over town.

"You're not going to shank me are you?"

"Shank you? With what?" she briefly imagined herself breaking the beer bottle over the bar but the thought left her mind just as quickly.

"I don't know, don't you guys shank people?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. Though, just because she'd never seen one of the Skanks shank someone, didn't mean that they weren't capable of it.

"I can't believe you followed me all day."

"Do you do that every day? Loiter, drink, and smoke?"

Quinn glanced away at that, she didn't mean for anyone to find out that she had started smoking. She felt oddly ashamed and she hated it.

"So what if I do?"

"I'm not even going to go into the health risks of such a lifestyle, but Quinn, your voice."

"Are you done lecturing me?"

Rachel shrugged sadly, somewhat giving up on the girl but not quite making a move to leave.

"C-could you, um, could you maybe get me a drink?"

Quinn stared at her in the dim light of the bar, the two stood silent as the rest of the crowd noisily went about their business. Quinn could ask why she was going to stay for a drink after she just acted like an overprotective mother but something told her that Rachel somewhat craved to know what it felt like to forget her responsibilities. Quinn loved it and Rachel just wanted to be accepted. In a way, she could appreciate it.

"What do you want?"

"Shots! No, a beer." Rachel bit her lip, "It doesn't matter."

Quinn moved closer towards the bar, waiting to get the bartender's attention and giving him the drink order. She felt a tug at her shirt and turned to find Rachel smiling.

"This is so exciting!"

"Take it easy."

"Do they have karaoke here? We should do a song!"

Quinn turned around fully, "_No._"

"Okay, jeeze."

"Just keep to yourself and drink your drink," Quinn told her, handing her the glass, and pulling her away from the bar.

"Wait, I didn't pay! I don't want them to think I stole it."

"Relax, I paid for it."

"Well, at least let me give you some money."

"It's fine."

"I'll buy you a gift card to Dunkin' Donuts," she nodded thoughtfully as she sipped her drink and smiled to herself for being so clever.

"You don't have to do that."

"Do I get to hang out with you and your friends?"

"Keep your mouth shut as much as possible," Quinn warned her.

"This is good, what is it?"

"Iced tea."

"Is there even alcohol in it?"

Quinn laughed as she walked ahead of Rachel, only turning her head to answer, "Yes."

"Yum!"

"Don't say things like that."

"Wait!" Quinn stopped and turned around to find Rachel free of emotion.

"What?"

"This is my 'brooding' look, how is it?"

Quinn stared at her for a few seconds and reminded herself to remain neutral. Rachel was going to give her a heart attack.

"Do you want them to cut you?"

"So I shouldn't open by telling them about my gay dads?"

Quinn stepped closer, ready to shake some sense into Rachel when she saw the glimmer in her eye, "I'm just kidding. Don't worry, I won't embarrass you in front of your friends."

Quinn sighed and nodded her head, "C'mon."

Rachel followed dutifully and sat when Quinn motioned towards the high chair while the blonde chose to stand next to the girl at the corner of the table.

"Who's your friend, Q-ball?"

"This is Rachel."

Jeremy held out his hand, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he leered. Rachel politely took his hand, "I'm Jeremy."

"It's very nice to meet you Jeremy," she pulled her head back and nodded towards the other three girls, "Skanks."

Mac cleared her throat when everyone at the table noticed Jeremy staring at Rachel for an inappropriate amount of time, "You were saying." She prompted him.

"Oh, right..."

Quinn shifted closer and rested her arm on the back of Rachel's chair. She was somewhat listening to the story Jeremy was telling them but only paying enough attention to follow along. Rachel, however, was just about on the edge of her seat.

"So then what did you do?" She asked after some time, eyes wide.

Quinn found herself paying more attention to Rachel than she was the rest of her friends. How she seemed to consistently sip her drink through the small straw as she fell under the spell of Jeremy's exaggerated story, or how every so often she'd glance up to see if Quinn was just as enthralled as she was. Those were the times that Quinn would take mouthfuls of beer. Both of their drinks were nearly gone by the end of the story for two entirely different reasons.

"Wow," Rachel commented, "And you didn't go to jail?" she asked.

Jeremy leaned back in his chair, chest puffed out in pride, his lips smirking around the rim of his beer bottle, "I'm _that_ good."

Quinn scrunched her nose in disgust at his behavior, she was already aware he was a big tool, but something about him attempting to lure Rachel towards him by acting the way that he was unsettled her.

"Do you want to leave?" Quinn asked as she dipped in closer to her.

Rachel turned sharply, nearly butting heads with the blonde, "You're not having fun?" she looked around to make sure the others were preoccupied, "Do your friends not like me?" she whispered. "Because I'll try harder."

Quinn sighed, "No, you're fine. Do you want another drink?"

"Okay."

"I'll be right back," Quinn told her.

Rachel reached out and grabbed her forearm as she turned to walk away.

"You're not going to leave me are you?"

Maybe it was the fact that it was Rachel's first time in the bar, or that she was hanging out with the Skanks, or maybe it was the fact that they spent a night together, but Quinn was oddly protective of her in the moment. Inconvenient or not, Quinn was now responsible for this girl.

She squeezed her hand, "No."

Rachel nodded and Quinn felt that it was okay to go back up to the bar to get them some more drinks.

She got Rachel the same drink, and got one for herself before she made her way back to the table.

"Forgot about us?" Ronnie replied, tilting her empty glass back and forth.

She absolutely did forget about the others and the unspoken rule of buying the round if you were going to the bar.

"I forgot what you were drinking," she lied, sliding Rachel's drink toward her.

"Whatever," Ronnie rolled her eyes, "Let's go get someone to buy us shots."

Sheila responded positively and jumped down from her stool, which Quinn took as a chance to finally sit down. Jeremy also joined the other three girls before turning, "You guys coming?"

Rachel glanced to Quinn for an answer, "We'll be there in a second."

The four disappeared in the crowd while Rachel and Quinn were left sitting next to each other at their table.

Quinn peeled at the wrapper of one of the empty beer bottles to give her something to do while she struggled to find something they could talk about.

"So you come here a lot?" Rachel asked.

Quinn shrugged, "I guess."

"Are you happy?"

Quinn's gaze pierced Rachel's, "Don't."

The brunette held up her hands in defense, "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Why did you follow me?"

Rachel took some time to answer, clearly stalling by watching Quinn pick at the beer bottle, "You didn't show up to bowling, and when I asked everyone where you were, no one knew…" She trailed off, "Or seemed to care."

Quinn's throat felt dry suddenly, having this discussion with Rachel probably wasn't the best idea.

"Well, good."

"You don't mean that."

"You just said it yourself, no one cares about me, why should I care about them?"

Rachel rested her crossed arms on the table and ducked in towards Quinn, "I care about you."

Quinn sighed heavily, "Clearly."

"Don't do that. Don't act like it's an inconvenience that I care about you."

Quinn bit the inside of her lip as she continued to play with the beer bottle. She was avoiding Rachel's prying eyes at all cost. Part of her felt like pushing the empty bottles off the table and storming out of the bar to get some air. A bigger part of her craved to know what she did to deserve Rachel's presence at the bar that night, "What do you want from me?"

Rachel reached across the table and stilled the blonde's hands on the beer bottle, "I don't want anything from you."

Quinn slowly lifted her eyes away from their touching hands to find Rachel's eyes. She could hear the sincerity behind Rachel's voice but she needed to _see_ it. Someone that didn't want something from her? That was a myth. Her ex boyfriends wanted sex, her friends used her status, Coach Sylvester required excellence, Mr. Schuester needed loyalty, Terri asked for her baby, Shelby _took _her baby, her mother craved forgiveness, and her father demanded perfection. She was supposed to believe Rachel didn't want anything?

She may have stopped caring but that didn't mean she was naive.

"You should go," Quinn replied, "There isn't room for you in this life."

Rachel's self-deprecating nod summed up just about everything, "Was there ever room for me in your old life?"

Her response lingered heavily between them and Quinn suddenly hated this small, smoky bar.

Quinn never responded. It was a lose-lose for her. If she were honest, she'd be showing her hand, and if she took one lesson from her father it was to never show your hand too early. If she lied, she'd hurt Rachel's feelings and suddenly that seemed like something too harsh to live with.

Damn this girl for walking into the bar with her perfectly brushed hair, yellow sundress, wedges, and matching headband. How was she even supposed to process this?

"Whattttup bitches," Sheila smacked the table, startling the two entranced girls. Mac placed two shot glasses full of amber colored liquor onto the table, "Fireball shots. Man up."

Rachel backed away slightly and smiled tightly, "That's okay. I should get going anyway. Thank you for having me."

Mac shrugged, "More for me."

Quinn snapped out of her own mind for a few seconds to realize that Rachel was shrinking into herself.

"No." Rachel turned to look at her so it was clear that she needed to elaborate, "You can't leave. The party is just getting started." She reached forward and grabbed one of the shot glasses and toasted the others before downing it in a swift motion.

Rachel smiled and shook her head before also reaching forward and grabbing her shot glass. She followed Quinn's actions and swallowed the liquor before she could worry too much about what she was about to consume. Or what it meant.

She gasped out and held her chest after the liquid burned her throat on it's way down, "What _was _that!" She coughed out and sucked her Long Island Iced Tea down, nearly finishing it in one gulp. "It was like liquid fire!"

"I like this chick. She makes me laugh." Sheila stated.

Quinn smiled proudly, Sheila was a tough critic.

"It kind of tastes like Big Red gum," Mac shrugged, "Want another one?"

Rachel looked towards Quinn for a proper response and the blonde shook her head, "She'll stick to the Iced Teas." And the brunette nodded.

/

"I _love_ this song," Rachel bounced off the barstool and grabbed Quinn's forearm, "Dance with me!"

Quinn shook her head with a laugh as she was pulled toward an empty space in the middle of the bar. "This isn't that type of bar," the blonde shouted over the sound of gongs.

Sheila suddenly appeared in front of them, "This is my _jam_," she said as Rachel high fived her on her excellent taste in songs.

Quinn felt absolutely foolish as she awkwardly swayed in front of Rachel but more and more people began to crowd around to dance with them and she relaxed a bit.

"Quinn! You have to walk like an Egyptian! See?" she began to _walk like an Egyptian_, "Like this," she continued to dance as the lyrics broke for the whistle interlude. Rachel laughed out loud and moved closer, "C'mon! You have to do it," she stopped and stared with an amused smirk and hands on her hips until Quinn gave in.

"Fine," the blonde threw her hands up, "Happy?"

Rachel smiled wide and began ducking in and out of the crowd. It was absolutely a sight to see.

"Egyptians don't walk like this," Quinn pointed out.

"Buzz kill."

They were drunk. It didn't take much for Rachel to get silly and Quinn realized that it didn't really take much for her to get drunk around Rachel. Was it adrenaline that took the steering wheel and fueled her buzz?

The lyrics were beginning to repeat and the song was ending soon and it appeared that Rachel simply couldn't have that. Her eyes lit up, "Do you have a dollar?!"

Quinn scrunched her face and patted her pockets, she found her cash and handed Rachel some money, assuming that she was going to get them some more drinks.

She continued to dance with Sheila while Rachel skipped away and once _Walk Like An Egyptian _faded out, she heard the opening piano chords to the next song and she realized exactly _why_ Rachel wanted her money.

"Ab. Solutely. Not." Quinn glared when Rachel hopped back over with a grin so big, she could give the Cheshire cat a run for his money. She began to nod to the music as Quinn shook her head, "No."

The brunette reached out for her hand and Quinn ignored her. She was undeterred, "Just a small town girl," Rachel sang into an empty beer bottle she quickly grabbed off a table, "Livin' in a lonely world," she gestured around the bar dramatically, thoroughly pleased with herself.

Quinn continued to shake her head, "No." She couldn't break, she couldn't crack a smile or smirk because then Rachel would have won, and Quinn _refused_ to let her win.

"Hidin' somewhere in the niiiiiiiiighhtttt."

"Shut your mouth," Quinn replied but couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her face. Damn this girl.

Rachel held the beer bottle towards Quinn, "C'mon! Duet with me!"

Quinn rolled her eyes playfully and she found herself stepping towards the bubbly brunette, simply unable to refuse the girl anything she asked for in the moment.

She ducked in close, "I'm not singing with you," she lied as she pulled Rachel towards her. Her veins felt like they were pumping with liquid giddiness. Seriously, damn this girl.

"Sing _to_ me," Rachel replied as Quinn pushed her away and held onto her hand before bringing her back closer. Rachel laughed into her chest as she put her arms around her neck.

"I'd rather dance," Quinn responded, allowing her eyes to slip closed as she got lost in the moment. She didn't need to think about it.

Rachel pulled back and glanced up at her curiously. Playfully. "With me?"

Quinn smiled, "With you."

"I think you should dance _for_ me."

Quinn threw her head back and chuckled. Her cheeks felt funny from smiling so wide, "In your dreams, Berry."

"Yes. You're right."

Quinn peered down, "You're kind of frisky when you're drunk."

"And you're…" Rachel trailed off and shrugged. Quinn quirked an eyebrow in expectation, "Just something."

"I'm something?"

Rachel nodded, "Twirl me."

Quinn pushed off of Rachel and held her arm in the air so the brunette could duck underneath, "What does that mean?" she shouted over the drunken singing coming from the people around her.

The girls came back together sloppily, "You're just something."

"I think the alcohol is going straight to your head," Quinn shouted over the music.

"I think you're going straight to my head," she said back.

Quinn leaned closer and gestured to her ear, "What?"

Rachel shook her head, "Nothing."

The song started to fade and Quinn waited to see what the next song would be, "Did you play another one?"

"No."

The song segued into a song that neither of them recognized and they mutually stepped away from each other.

"Do you want another drink?" Quinn asked, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. She could faintly feel where Rachel's nail scratched her lightly.

She wobbled slightly as she held the tabletop to stable herself, "I don't think I should."

"You okay?" Quinn asked through a tiny chuckle, her hand finding the small of Rachel's back to keep her steady.

The brunette ran her hand over her forehead, "I don't think I should drink with you anymore."

Quinn smirked, "Probably not. C'mon," she nodded toward the door, "Let's go."

"But your friends."

Quinn was slowly pulling her towards the door and shrugging her off, "They've left me plenty of times."

"That's not very nice," Quinn didn't need to see Rachel's face to know she was frowning.

They weaved in and out of small groups of people and finally found the door, "See you later, Ed," Quinn said and Rachel dragged her eyes up from the floor in front of her to survey the bouncer. He was a tall, bulky man with a leather jacket and a black bandana around his head.

"Big Ed," Rachel whispered in awe as she passed him and Quinn laughed as she felt Rachel settle into her side, "That's Big Ed," she said again.

"It is."

Rachel leaned further into her pink haired friend a little more and allowed Quinn to lead her through the parking lot and to the sidewalk in front of the bar. Her locked car parked a few feet away long forgotten as she let herself be blindly led to wherever Quinn was taking her.

"I think your hair looks nice," Rachel said after a while.

Quinn peered down, "What?"

She felt Rachel shrug against her as she hiccupped softly, "It's different, I like it."

"_You_ like it?"

"You're like Avril Lavigne."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Don't call me Avril Lavigne."

"Okay."

They walked under streetlight after streetlight, attached at the hip, talking about whatever crossed Rachel's drunken mind. Quinn mostly hummed along as she listened to the girl mumble about her life so far during the summer. She didn't mind for some reason. She talked about the upcoming Senior year, and how she couldn't believe Finn kissed her at Nationals, and how she was thinking about college choices. It didn't really matter what they talked about, Quinn was quite content to listen.

"Hey Avril?"

She blew out a breath, "Yeah?"

"Where are you taking me?"

She laughed as she adjusted her arm as Rachel glanced up at her, "I'm walking you home."

"Oh," she replied lightly before untangling herself entirely from Quinn after she processed where exactly they were in town, only a few blocks from Rachel's street, "But you live on the other side of town."

As it turned out, the bar they left was smack in the middle of both their houses.

"It's okay."

Rachel stopped walking, "No." she shook her head, determined as she tried to grab Quinn's arm, "I'll walk you home."

Quinn continued to walk, indifferent to her attempts, "Don't be ridiculous."

She tilted her head back and glanced up at the sky. She may have changed her clothes, and her hair, and her general attitude towards life, but it'd never change the fact that she truly enjoyed summer nights. The occasional cool breeze that hit her hot face, and the way everything was just more relaxed. She searched for the big dipper through her foggy haze and smiled to herself as she heard Rachel continue to huff and puff about being _tricked_ on this walk.

"Stop your complaining," Quinn called behind her before hearing Rachel's wedges thump against the pavement.

"Where's my car?"

"At the bar."

"And how exactly am I going to retrieve it?"

"You can have your dad take you tomorrow."

"Oh _sure_, 'hey daddy? Would you mind taking me to pick up my brand new car that I left at a BAR because Quinn Fabray and her skank friends got me drunk against my will?'"

Quinn whirled around, "You are _so_ dramatic. And you're a pathological liar."

"I am _not_."

She held her hand out as Rachel approached, "You asked _me_ for a drink."

Rachel slid back into her side without question, "Neither here nor there."

Quinn guided the girl up over the curb and across Rachel's front lawn. The front porch light was on but no one seemed to be home. Quinn stepped back as Rachel looked around for her house keys. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, allowing the nicotine to soak into her system. She blew the smoke and looked over to see why Rachel was huffing and puffing again.

"I've been robbed," Rachel said seriously.

Quinn stood at full attention and walked forward, "What?"

"My keys are gone." Rachel held her small clutch out for Quinn to inspect.

Quinn pulled out a set of keys and dangled them in front of her face, "These keys?"

"Those are my car keys," She replied before lighting up, "My house keys are in my car! Oh thank goodness," she sighed in relief. "That was a close one."

Quinn hummed and brought the cigarette back to her lips as she waited for Rachel to realize that her car was still at the bar.

She finally turned to her in panic, "I'm locked out of my house." Quinn rolled her eyes and began walking, "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't smoke around me."

Quinn tossed the cigarette onto the driveway and mashed it with her shoe as she stepped over it. She opened the gate to the back yard and began to feel around near the windows to see if she could somehow pry one open. She was becoming sort of an expert at sneaking in and out of her own house so breaking into someone else's could be _that_ hard.

"Why do you smoke?" Rachel asked with mild disgust, "You're jeopardizing your singing voice."

"God forbid," She mumbled as she found a small window that she was able to push up. She turned around, "What window is this?"

Rachel looked up, eyes glancing over each of the windows, as she mentally mapped out her house, "Bathroom."

Quinn stepped forward and prepared to hoist Rachel up so she could shimmy through the extremely small window. "What are you doing?" Rachel shrieked, pushing Quinn's hands away from being tickled.

"I'm certainly not going to fit through that window."

"So _I _have to be the one?"

"You're tiny."

Rachel brushed her hands down her dress in confidence, "I work out." She said proudly.

"I see that."

Rachel stepped towards the window. It wasn't high off the ground but she would need a bit of a push because she was a little too short to do it herself. Quinn's hands circled her waist and helped her through the window. Rachel gave confirmation when her foot was securely on the toilet seat. Once safely inside, she turned around and leant through the window so she was facing Quinn, "Are you coming?"

Quinn bit her lip in hesitation. She really shouldn't. "It's a long walk back, I should get going."

"I'll come with you," Rachel said quickly, "You can't walk by yourself."

"And how will _you_ get back?" Quinn questioned, "You can't walk by yourself either."

"So sleep over," Rachel shrugged innocently.

Quinn debated.

She wanted to. She really, really did. She wasn't sure why but she knew that she didn't want to quite leave Rachel yet. She was currently attempting to come up with excuses. Excuses to leave and excuses to stay.

"I don't want you to leave."

"Rachel…"

"I know we were drunk…" She started before trailing off. Quinn turned her attention back to the girl, "But I can't stop thinking about that night."

Her breath caught in her throat at Rachel's honesty. Her stomach pulled and her palms tingled. She ran a hand through her short hair to steady herself and met the brunette's gaze.

"Unlock the door," she said before she could change her mind.

Rachel disappeared from the window and a few seconds later, the back door unlocked and opened to reveal Rachel in the darkness.

"Where are your dads?"

She shrugged.

"You're sure?" Quinn asked as she stepped closer.

She couldn't deny that she wanted the same thing all of a sudden but she wouldn't continue if it wasn't anything but mutual.

Rachel nodded this time and blindly reached for Quinn's wrist. The blonde allowed herself to be pulled inside and the glass door shut behind her.

It was dark.

The only source of light came from a small night-light that was plugged into the wall behind the kitchen counter. The refrigerator hummed across the room and in the distance she could hear the central air as it kicked on. It was cool in the house. A welcomed change from the warm summer air they were just in.

Rachel turned and began walking down the long hallway. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and peered over her shoulder to see if Quinn was following her.

She gestured to the sink, "I'll be right there. I'm going to get some water."

Rachel nodded and began to walk up the steps as Quinn walked to the cabinet and pulled down a glass. She turned the sink on and ran her fingers under the water as she waited for it to get cold.

She could leave. She _should _leave.

Letting it happen once could clearly be written off as a simple fling. But twice? She couldn't ignore _twice_. She closed her eyes as the cold water coated her throat and Rachel's face flashed through her mind subliminally. Her feet began to carry her towards the stairs. The prospect of Rachel upstairs, waiting for her, with the clear intention of spending the night together excited her. It was something she wasn't used to feeling.

She found herself standing in the doorframe, silently watching Rachel shimmy out of her yellow sundress in the corner of the room, completely unaware of the blonde's presence. Her shoulders tensed ever so slightly as the dress pooled at her feet. She turned around, realizing she had company, and ducked her gaze bashfully.

Quinn licked her lips as she studied Rachel carefully.

Was it possible that this girl had no idea how intoxicating she actually was? Surely she knew the affect that she had on Quinn. Is this what Rachel had in mind when she decided to show herself at the bar earlier in the night?

Was she supposed to be dwelling on the details? The brunette was half naked on the other side of the room and Quinn was wasting precious seconds that could be otherwise spent underneath that perfect body.

Quinn softly closed the door behind her, stepped further into the room, and met Rachel for the first of many times that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel skirted her tongue teasingly across Quinn's collarbone as the blonde tilted her head back with a sigh. Rachel somehow knew exactly what parts of Quinn to attack. They barely made it through Rachel's curtain divider before the brunette had her lips on Quinn's.

"Where is Kurt?" Quinn whispered, finally finding the willpower and strength to speak.

She could feel Rachel shrug as she moved to suck on the warm flesh of her neck. Quinn managed to push her shoulders away gently. At least long enough to confirm that Santana and Kurt were out still or sleeping.

Quinn and Santana were in town, at the request of Kurt, to dissuade Rachel from doing a topless scene for a low budget student film. They successfully convinced her not to go through with it, which, had been quite a difficult conversation for Quinn to get through, considering they were talking about Rachel's breasts and they just so happened to keep popping up every time Quinn looked in her direction. But alas, they completed their mission and Rachel bought them dinner while they were still in town. Which turned into a drink or two, which turned into 8 more.

Santana said something about needing to spread her wings and fly and left the two of them at the bar by themselves. Had Santana known of their previous drunken encounters, she probably wouldn't have slapped the two girls on the back, winked, and told them to go out and try to get laid because it's exactly what she planned to do.

Kurt never made it to dinner.

Neither of them made their presence known however when the two girls stumbled into the apartment five minutes prior.

"Out."

"Santana?"

"Out," Rachel breathed as she began nibbling on the bottom of Quinn's earlobe.

"Where are they sleeping?"

"Who cares."

Quinn's determination to stay afloat as Rachel desperately attempted to pull her under was dwindling. They hadn't seen each other since the day after graduation. And before that, they weren't exactly pillow talking every weekend. Rachel officially got back together with Finn before senior year, Quinn had other things on her mind, and their little drunken escapades were swept under the rug.

It was almost as if it never happened.

Except.

Except for those fleeting moments in the morning where she was too exhausted to turn her mind off, right before the sleep would wear off, but just conscious enough to control what she was thinking about. Then. It was then that she would think about Rachel in that way.

And as Rachel moved her lips from Quinn's earlobe, leaving traces of wetness across her cheek, she found the blonde's mouth, swallowing whatever words she was about to throw out in protest.

Finally, the hesitancy was replaced with urgency as she felt her body fully react to the way Rachel moved against her.

She pushed the brunette back again, chasing the lips as they broke away from her, and guided Rachel towards her bed. She traced her hand down her side, feeling the brunette shudder as her nails grazed the bare skin of her hip, on her way to removing the purple blouse. She unzipped Rachel's gray tweed skirt and struggled to remove the black tights.

"Why do you have to wear these?"

Rachel laughed as she guided the blonde's hand to cup her breast, "You're wearing them, too."

Quinn narrowed her eyes, "Besides the point."

Rachel reached around and unzipped the blonde's red dress, helping her step out of it, "I can't make it _too_ easy for you to get me out of my clothes," she punctuated her joke with a playful kiss to the underside of Quinn's chin.

"I'm going to rip them off," she replied as she pushed Rachel onto the bed.

"Don't you dare," Rachel pulled Quinn on top of her.

The blonde nodded, "Yup. I'm taking scissors to them." She sat up a bit and began to unzip Rachel's leather boots. She tossed the first one behind her before moving to work on the next one. Rachel began to pull down Quinn's own tights, mumbling something about seriously going to find the scissors when the apartment door slid open.

"Hello?" Santana called into the studio, "I'm about to have sex on your couch so if you're here you better come out!"

"Is she serious?" Rachel whispered with wide eyes as she struggled to get off the bed. Quinn remained straddled on top of her.

"What's worse, letting Santana have sex on your couch, or having her catch us half naked together?"

Rachel considered it for a long moment before she pulled Quinn back down on her, "Do you know how to be quiet?"

"I do. You're the vocal one."

Rachel's mouth dropped open and Quinn took the opportunity to duck down and kiss it better.

They could hear Santana and unnamed stranger talking in the living room as they quietly finished undressing each other. And then they heard giggling. And then the moaning started.

Rachel threw her head back onto the pillow, "I can't do this."

Quinn dropped her forehead down to the brunette's shoulder as she caught her breath. They were just starting to pick up speed.

"Do you want me to tell her to get lost?"

"And blow our cover?"

Quinn laughed, "At this point, I don't care."

Rachel shook her head and cupped Quinn's cheek, "We can wait, can't we?"

Quinn sighed, "I guess."

Rachel quietly slid off her bed and made her way to the clothing rack in the corner of her room. Rolling her eyes as she heard Santana's whimpers echo off the apartment walls. She pulled a shirt off a hanger and threw it on over her bare chest. She tossed another one to Quinn.

Santana's timing was just _perfect_. Now they would have to figure out how to pass the time without it becoming too awkward. In their previous two encounters, they just kind of flirted, had sex, and then fell asleep. She never really had to fill the silence with anything other than soft spoken commands or compliments.

"Is that my shirt?" Quinn asked suddenly, recognizing the design on Rachel's black t-shirt.

The brunette looked down at the shirt and back up to the blonde with a smirk that let her know it wasn't a coincidence. She did it on purpose. Quinn gestured for her to come closer and Rachel got back onto the bed.

"You left it at my house last time," Rachel replied as she straddled her hips.

The oversized and worn down Motley Crue t-shirt reached to the top of Rachel's thighs.

"You should have burned it," Quinn replied with a certain shudder as she thought about that time in her life. She couldn't believe she actually walked out of the house like that and people let her. Well, Rachel was the only one that attempted to get her to come to her senses but she never judged her like the others.

Rachel looked down at the shirt again, "I think it's cute," she shrugged with an innocent smile.

"Cute?"

"In a sad lost puppy kind of way," she smiled with her eyes.

Quinn's fingers lazily traced designs on the bare skin of Rachel's thigh and she reminded herself that Santana was in the next room. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up jumping Rachel. The brunette seriously didn't know the affect she had. Innocent and coy while wearing an old t-shirt of Quinn's as she straddled her? Not exactly the words she'd normally use to describe that scene. Her loosely curled ombre hair hung past her shoulders, teasing Quinn to run her fingers through it.

"Why didn't Kurt call Finn?" she asked.

Rachel frowned, "What do you mean?"

"He called me. Why wouldn't he call Finn to talk you out of doing the topless scene."

Rachel shrugged as she played with the hem of the shirt Quinn had put on. She didn't look at it when she threw it over her head but it was grey and comfortable, and it smelled like Rachel.

"Would you really have gone through with it?"

"I think so. I'm not really sure. I'm glad I didn't."

Quinn smiled softly as Rachel began to play with one of her hands, "You are?"

She nodded as she bit her lip gently, "I'm glad you came. It was a nice surprise. Thank you for making the trip."

Quinn did something that she never saw herself doing in a million years, even with all the alcohol floating through her system, and by the barely masked shock on Rachel's face, she wasn't expecting it either. Quinn brought Rachel's hand to her lips and kissed her palm tenderly.

Rachel shimmied off of her and settled next to her body, their tangled hands finding purchase on Quinn's stomach, "Is that the only reason you came?"

Quinn was silent for a bit, which meant she had to listen to Santana's moans of pleasure, but she wanted to make sure she didn't say something stupid in response to Rachel's question.

She thought back to two nights ago when her phone had rang while she was with her study group in the library. She couldn't answer it right away, even if she was fairly concerned as to why Kurt would be calling her at 9pm on a Wednesday night, but when she saw that he left a message, she excused herself from the table and went outside to listen to the voicemail.

_Quinn? It's Kurt Hummel. Listen, Rachel is being stubborn and she's going to do something that might hurt her career. She values your advice, even if she doesn't always take it. I think you're the only one that can talk some sense into her. Call me back. I'm going to try Santana now, maybe she can scare Rachel into reconsidering. Oh by the way, she wants to do a topless scene. Okay bye. _

Quinn had replayed the message two more times before saving it. Rachel valued her advice? Her best friend and roommate was enlisting Quinn to talk sense into the girl? With her study group and books long forgotten, she quickly dialed Kurt back, and found herself on a three-way call with him and Santana.

"_I've tried," Kurt said with a sigh, "I've tried every line in the book but she won't listen to me. And it doesn't help that her boytoy has taken to walking around the apartment naked in order to give her confidence."_

"_Ugh," Santana nearly spat, "Who is this tool?"_

"_A upper classmen and a real inconvenience. I wouldn't have called either of you if I wasn't desperate."_

"_Are you with her?" Quinn asked calmly._

"_Yeah put this biddy on the phone."  
><em>

"_She's at dance class. I hate to say this, because the apartment is already way too crowded, but I think you guys should come here."_

"_To New York?" Quinn asked._

"_Listen Lady Hummel, I know you only go two speeds: dramatic and insane, so are you really concerned for her or are you just stirring up drama?"_

"_Insults aside, Santana, I need your help. It's a student film. It's horrendous."_

"_Look, say no more, alright? Me and Fabray will be there this weekend. When does she have to shoot the scene?"_

"_Friday afternoon."_

"_I have an early morning class on Friday and then I'm free," Quinn offered, distracted by her motives behind this last minute decision to drop everything to tend to Rachel. "I still have the metro pass, I can be there by noon."_

"_Great. Santana?"_

"_Yeah yeah, I'll be there."_

"_We'll reconvene on Friday," Kurt began, "I'll let you know if anything changes."_

Kurt had disconnected the call and Quinn was left wondering what the hell she had just agreed to but also why she deliberately ignored the plans she made that coming weekend in favor of going to New York.

In fact, she was still wondering what the hell she was doing in New York. She'd be downright lying if she said she was only there to stop Rachel from doing the film. She wanted to see the girl. She knew her and Finn had broken up. And she just wanted to be around her. She wanted to know if her attraction to her was still there.

Rachel's question echoed in the space between them, "Is that the only reason you came?"

"No," she finally answered.

/

Will and Emma's wedding had been a disaster for so many different reasons, it was hard for Quinn to pick out just one. Perhaps getting as drunk as she did didn't help matters but what was done was done. In hindsight, she should have never gone in the first place. She should have just stayed far, far away from that toxic group.

She slowly crept barefoot down the carpeted hallway, afraid of running into someone, as she attempted to purchase another water from the vending machine. She winced as the water fell down to the bottom, the sound going straight to her head. Her buzz was wearing off and she needed water and some kind of sustenance. Maybe she could order room service.

She heard one of the doors in the hallway softly close and turned to see Rachel sifting around through her purse. She didn't know Quinn was just a few yards away at the end of the hallway but her eyes snapped up when she heard change being dispersed at the bottom of the vending machine. She just _had_ to pay with a five dollar bill.

She grabbed all of her change and inhaled deeply before she turned to confront Rachel's deer in headlight expression.

"Where are you going?" Quinn asked as she walked back down the hallway.

Rachel fussed with her bangs, "Back to New York. I should have never come back here."

Quinn shrugged, "Probably not," she nodded towards the room Rachel just snuck out of, "Finn?"

Rachel sighed as she looked over her shoulder at the hotel room that housed a passed out Finn. She looked at Quinn and nodded, "It was a mistake."

Quinn held up her hands, "Not my business," she replied, wondering if she sounded as bitter as she felt.

Rachel nodded in agreement before her eyes slowly took in the sight of Quinn's disheveled hair, the inside out t-shirt that seemed to be hastily thrown on, and the fact that she had that unmistakable glow she got after she had sex. Rachel would know. She'd seen her like this before. She had given her that glow before.

"You were busy, I see."

Quinn shrugged and uncapped her water so she could take a long pull. She didn't feel the need to respond.

She wasn't sure where this sudden animosity toward Rachel came from. She was actually somewhat looking forward to the trip back for the wedding. There'd be alcohol. Whenever the two consumed alcohol together, they ended up in bed together. It was starting to almost become expected. So when Rachel flocked towards Finn, she felt betrayed and she hated that feeling. She had no reason to _expect_ anything. But there they were, in the quiet hallway of the 8th floor, in a standoff that neither would win.

Less than a month prior, they were in the city together, rolling and falling into each other in Rachel's bed, laughing and trying to keep their voices down so they wouldn't be caught. And now they were silently sizing each other up, wondering how they'd both get out of this with their pride in tact.

"What will Brody say?"

"Didn't stop you."

Quinn pursed her lips. The jab she threw at Rachel was thrown right back in her face. And it didn't feel all that good.

One of them needed to be the bigger person and end the conversation before things got wildly out of hand but they were both masochists in that way. They'd rather pretend everything was fine than walk away. They'd rather push each other's buttons than admit they were jealous.

"Is it Santana?" Rachel asked suddenly. "I noticed you two dancing."

Quinn laughed despite herself, "I'm surprised you noticed anything other than—" she stopped speaking, realizing that she was getting riled up and there was no point. Rachel was going to leave anyway and where would that leave her? "Nevermind."

Calling her out on the fact that she ran right back into Finn's arms the first chance she got wasn't going to solve anything. Quinn always has and always would be the second choice. She was a convenience. She tended not to think about that fact too often. And she also tried not to think about the fact that she was bitter that she even realized it in the first place. What her and Rachel had was nothing more than casual. And only existed when their blood was soaked in alcohol.

"No, what? You obviously have something to say to me."

Quinn shook her head. She wasn't going to get into it with the brunette. It would resolve nothing and she'd show her hand, "Don't you have a flight to catch?"

"You're upset with me."

Quinn laughed under her breath and looked away, "It doesn't matter what I think."

"Because I slept with Finn."

Quinn brought her eyes back to the brown ones staring intently. She felt like her mind was being invaded but for the life of her she couldn't excuse herself from Rachel's presence. No matter how torturous the conversation was.

"You're a big girl, you can do what you want."

"Because I didn't sleep with you instead."

Quinn gnawed on the inside of her lower lip, "I'll live."

She didn't understand why they were being so stubborn with each other. It's not like they hadn't already seen each other naked. It's not like they could deny their attraction to each other. She supposed that being physically exposed was a far cry away from being emotionally exposed. When feelings and emotions got involved, one of them was bound to get hurt.

Rachel's self-deprecating smile infuriated her, "Of course."

The longer Rachel stood in front of her, the harder it was for Quinn to keep herself calm. They had this understanding with each other now, sort of like a pact that they'd end up with each other at the end of the night when they were together. It was more of an unspoken agreement that they were both spoken for. They didn't go to the bars looking for someone to hook up with, they had each other. They went to the bars to get drunk so it would make their time together a little less nerve-wracking. Rachel broke that agreement by choosing Finn and Quinn couldn't let herself forget it that easily.

The fact of the matter is that Rachel was sneaking out of Finn's room and had Quinn not been in the hallway at that exact moment, she would have never known that they slept together. She wasn't sure which scenario she would rather.

What she wanted to say—what she should have said— was that Rachel shouldn't fly back to New York just yet. That Quinn didn't want her to leave.

The door to their left opened and Santana poked her head out, "What the hell is taking so long?"

She opened the door more fully and Quinn could see the white sheet wrapped around her body and closed her eyes. Though Rachel had guessed that it was Santana waiting for her to return, she never meant for Rachel to actually find out she was correct. Somehow, it made everything just a little bit more messy. And the guilt Quinn already felt was ten times worse after seeing Rachel's fallen face.

Rachel kept her eyes on Santana, her roommate of only two weeks, "Just saying goodbye," she said before gesturing towards Quinn, "She's all yours now."

Santana said something witty and Santana-like but Quinn couldn't hear it over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Rachel brushed by Quinn's shoulder and continued on down the hallway, leaving the two girls to their privacy.


	4. Chapter 4

**So I decided to combine the last two chapters because this way it flows better, which means this is the end. Thank you for being patient and taking the time to read. I hope you enjoy it. Sidenote: Finn's death is brought up. **

* * *

><p>Quinn glanced down at her cell phone, wearing the battery out simply by checking the time every few seconds. She wasn't waiting for a phone call, or a text message, but it didn't stop her from checking her phone religiously. She was debating, silently, whether or not she should contact Rachel. It was a struggle she's faced just about every time she's been somewhat buzzed. It was a curse. A haunting. She has a few drinks, if she doesn't have anyone around to keep her attention, her mind will drift back to the brunette.<p>

It was easier now that she attended Yale. Having a little over 70 miles in between them was far more easier to deal with than living in the same town, or being at the same party. Senior year was antagonizing. Senior year was brutal. Senior year was hell.

But only when she was drunk.

She took a sip of her beer and brought her attention back to the conversation happening around her. People were holding up their drinks of choice and she quickly did the same.

"To 21 years of kicking ass," Santana said proudly, "Happy birthday to me."

Everyone cheered and hollered as they downed their drinks. Santana had been '21' for quite some time, thanks to Rosario Cruz, but on her official birthday she demanded Quinn travel down to the city to celebrate. Quinn could only protest so much before she felt guilty for trying to skip her friend's birthday.

Kurt rose his glass again, "And to old friends making the trip," he gestured towards Quinn and Brittany. Quinn smiled appreciatively and took another sip. Her eyes briefly glanced towards the entrance of the bar and looked away just as quickly. She'd been doing that all night.

"So how are your classes going?" Kurt asked, resting his chin on his hand.

Quinn nodded, "Great."

"Have you met anyone new?" His eyebrows wiggled suggestively and Quinn laughed into her pint of beer.

She shook her head, "No one worth talking about."

His face fell, upset that he wouldn't have any new gossip, instead he'd fish for more, "Have you spoken to anyone from high school recently?"

"Mercedes started taking some classes out in LA," Kurt nodded, already knowing that, "Mr. Shue and Ms. Pillsbury finally got married," he nodded again. She gestured towards Brittany, "Brit said on the train ride down that Sam's modeling career took a turn towards the male escort business."

Kurt's eyes lit up, that was a juicy tidbit he didn't previously have, "Interesting."

"How's Blaine?" Quinn asked, "Are you two still…?"

Kurt tilted his head back and forth, "It's casual."

"I see."

"I'll probably call him later to come over," he dismissed with a wave of his hand before taking another sip of his cocktail.

"Oh, _that _kind of casual."

Kurt smiled, "Yes well, after the whole Brody-Finn-Rachel fiasco of 2013, we all decided to not allow significant others to stay for more than two days."

Quinn began picking at the label of an empty beer bottle, "That sounds like a good idea."

He rolled his eyes, "It's much less crowded now in the mornings. Although," He began to laugh, "Last weekend we _all_ had casualties—which is what we call them, and it was rather entertaining. One knew the other from work, and then the third one hooked up with the first one. It was a sight."

Quinn grimaced through her smile, "I bet."

Truthfully, she didn't care to hear about Rachel's extra curricular activities. Rachel certainly didn't care to hear about hers, either. That type of discussion was off limits. But Rachel wasn't at the bar yet.

"Is Rachel seeing anyone?"

Kurt clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he thought, "Not consistently. After Finn—" Kurt paused and cleared his throat, as if being caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Finn's name, "After Finn passed, I don't know, it's been different. She's different."

Quinn solemnly smiled, remembering their friend. She placed a hand on his to show her support. It was a rough time for all of them.

"It'll be two years next month," Kurt said softly, "I can't believe how time flies."

"Tell me about it."

The heavy moment passed as Kurt's eyes shifted towards the door, "Speak of the diva and she doth appear," he said before standing up a bit to wave Rachel in their direction.

"Hi guys!" she hugged Santana from behind before smiling at everyone else at the long table, "Sorry I'm late."

Santana introduced her to a few of her colleagues, fellow waitresses at the new restaurant she was working at, and Rachel gestured to a few of her cast members at the bar already who she lured into coming out with her.

Quinn sat silently, observing everything from the edge of the table, how this merry band of misfits became somewhat of a family. She wasn't sure how to play it. The last time they spoke to one another was the night of Mr. Schuester's botched wedding, and that wasn't exactly rainbows and roses.

"How was class with our favorite trainwreck?" Kurt asked.

"Cassie is much easier to deal with when you're the teacher's assistant. And it also helps if you've been the lead in a timeless Broadway musical."

Kurt hummed in agreement before handing Rachel his drink. She took a sip and scurried off to the bar to order one for herself. Quinn sat back and reminded herself to remain neutral. It was the first time they were seeing each other in a really long time. Rachel's life was drastically different than it was the last time she saw her.

/

Quinn rested her elbows on the bar as she waited for a bartender to make his way back toward her. She'd been drinking beer but she needed something a little stronger. Santana's friends from work were all great but they were a little overwhelming. Rachel was jumping around from table to table as if she knew every single person in the bar. Kurt was doing an excellent job of keeping Quinn company. Thank God. She felt out of place. They all seemed to be in their comfort zone. Maybe Quinn just needed to get a little more drunk.

The bartender came over and she ordered herself a shot, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Rachel making her way toward the bar and she quickly called for another one, along with two drinks. Rachel slid in next to Quinn and put her empty glass on the bar top.

"Were you going to go the whole night without saying hello to me?" she asked.

Quinn laughed, "You're the one bouncing around like you own the place. I wasn't sure you remembered who I was."

"Quinn Fabray isn't the easiest person to forget."

"So I guess you tried to?"

The bartender set down the two shots and went about making the drinks.

"You could say that."

The playful banter they shared over drinks came easily. As if they never stopped. It was second nature.

Rachel turned and faced the blonde, "You look really good, Quinn."

The blonde shook her head and corrected her posture, "So do you. New York's been good to you."

Rachel glanced around the bar, "I can't complain."

Quinn arched an eyebrow, "_You_ can't complain? Surely I've stepped into an alternate universe."

Rachel playfully smacked her arm, "Shut up."

"That'll be $34." The bartender said as Quinn handed him her debit card, "Keep it open?"

"You can close it."

"Don't want me buying drinks on your tab?" Rachel asked. Quinn picked up both shot glasses and handed one to her, "For me?"

Quinn nodded before bringing the shot to her lips and throwing it back. Rachel followed and Quinn watched in awe as the brunette didn't wince or cough once. Rachel noticed the look, "I've gotten better at taking shots."

Quinn laughed as the bartender slid a receipt toward her to sign. She handed Rachel her drink.

"And I get a drink, too? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk." She took a sip, "A long island? Okay now I _know_ you're trying to get me drunk."

"Somehow I think you're already halfway there."

Rachel smiled as she sucked on the straw, "My tolerance has gotten better."

"I'm sure."

"Don't get me wrong, the earth still spins, it just takes me longer to get to that point."

Quinn laughed, "It's good to know some things are still the same."

"Want to grab a table?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Are you going to desert me the second we sit down?"

Rachel pulled on her forearm, "I've already made my rounds."

/

"You can't possibly be serious," Quinn replied as she laughed into her nearly empty glass, "The person that replaced you in that student film went on to star in a movie that was in the Tribeca Film Festival? How is that even possible?"

"Someone saw it and casted her in their independent movie."

"I can't believe that," Quinn sighed out, "Well, now I feel bad for talking you out of it."

Rachel laughed and held her arms up, "I guess I should have just taken my shirt off."

"I guess so."

"You should have seen my face when I found out."

"I'm sure it was priceless."

"Quinn, I'm not even kidding, I nearly threw my laptop across the room."

"Always with the dramatics."

"Would you have me any other way?"

Quinn smiled and set her empty glass down, "No. I don't think I would."

Rachel smiled back, "Ready for another?"

"You weren't kidding about the high tolerance thing, were you?"

Rachel slid out from the chair and made her way back up to the bar, refusing Quinn's offer to pay for their next round. Rachel had already bought the last two.

Quinn glanced across the bar to see the rest of Santana's party still sitting at the long table. She hoped she wasn't coming off as rude to the others, but her and Rachel were getting along so well that she was afraid if they went back to the party, they'd lose the progress they'd made.

It wasn't exactly lost on her how much she was worrying about this visit. It took her a long time to get over her last encounter with Rachel. She replayed it over in her mind, wondering how it would have turned out if she'd said things differently.

She wouldn't let herself admit it back then but after dissecting everything after the fact, there was a very good chance that she'd fallen for the brunette somewhere along the way, and she wouldn't make that mistake again. She didn't like how it felt to be second choice. She made a promise that she'd never put herself in that position ever again. She'd be the one in control.

"I think everyone's getting ready to head over to another bar," Rachel said as she set down the drinks on the table. "Did you want to go?"

"I don't care."

Rachel sat, "I'd figured you'd want to because of Santana."

Quinn scoffed lightly, "That happened two years ago."

"I meant because it's her birthday and that's why you're in town."

"Oh." Quinn took a long sip to avoid Rachel's curious gaze. "We can go if you want."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I just said I didn't care."

"We can meet up with them later."

"That's fine."

Rachel squinted in her direction, "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"You're doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"Where you close up on people."

"What would you know about that?"

Rachel laughed and took a sip from her drink, "Because I've seen it enough to know."

Quinn focused her attention on her drink to avoid Rachel's eyes, "I just don't understand why you would sleep with Finn."

So much for not putting herself in an embarrassing position. Way to be in control, Quinn. Way to let her know that you haven't forgotten that night. Way to bring up the boy she's most likely still mourning over. She could be so stupid sometimes when she drank. Something about Rachel's presence always made her reveal far more than she would under any other circumstance.

Rachel flinched at the mention of his name so suddenly, "You don't need to understand it. And like you said, it happened two years ago. It obviously won't happen again."

It was Quinn's turn to flinch, she pushed back from the table and hit the bench cushion with her back, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" she shook her head, "That was stupid."

She felt her stomach twist at the fact that she was getting jealous over something that happened two years ago, and the fact that the person she was jealous of wasn't even with them anymore. How petty and childish.

The truth is, it could have been Puck, or Sam, or even Brody and Quinn still would have been equally jealous. Finn wasn't the issue.

Rachel laughed, she actually laughed, "It's fine actually. Refreshing."

"How do you mean?"

"It's like he never existed. Everyone tiptoes around his name, afraid I'll crack, or fall into a deep dark spiral. I haven't heard his name in a year." She leaned back, her arm coming across her body and resting on her ribcage, "I could always count on you to tell it like it is, to not coddle me."

Quinn silently drank her drink, not knowing what to say. Rachel was right in a way, they never sugar coated things for each other.

Rachel leaned forward to reach her drink, she took her time bringing her glass to her lips as she kept her eyes trained on the blonde across from her, "So why Santana?"

"We're not talking about Santana."

"Why not? You just asked me about Finn."

"Because Santana was a drunken one night stand. You dated Finn."

She smirked, "So…only once?"

Quinn sighed, she'd been tricked, "Just that night."

"Have you slept with any other girls since then?"

She studied her carefully, trying to decipher why Rachel would be curious to know. She could lie or she could tell the truth and see how Rachel reacted, "Yes."

She squinted her eyes curiously, "Is the better question, have you slept with any guys since that night?"

Quinn bristled, "Why are we talking about this?"

Rachel shrugged easily, "Why not?"

"Do you actually care or are you just riling me up?"

It was obviously working.

Rachel traced the rim of her glass with her finger, "How come you haven't asked me if I've slept with anyone since then?"

"Because I don't want to know."

"Because you don't care or because you'll be jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

Rachel shrugged, a small constant smirk playing at her lips. She was just _so_ smug, "Just a question."

Quinn finally answered, "Because Kurt already mentioned your clever nickname for one night stands."

"Casualties?"

"MmHmm," she replied over the rim of her drink.

"I see."

"So I really don't need to know the details."

"How else was I supposed to forget about you?"

Quinn closed her eyes, "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you telling me this?"

Rachel shrugged nonchalantly, "Why not?"

"Let's talk about something else."

"Fine."

"How are your classes?"

"They're going great. How about yours?"

"They're good."

Rachel nodded slowly, "So are you seeing anyone?"

Quinn groaned, "No. I'm not."

"Really?"

"Is that so hard to comprehend?"

"I just thought you'd be with someone."

Quinn hated this conversation. She hated when she'd have it with her mother, with her roommates, and she hated having it with Rachel, "I'm not fond of commitment."

"What changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I just thought you'd want the stability and security of a relationship."

"Are you implying that I'm insecure and unstable?"

"Among other things," Rachel smiled with her eyes. She was having a blast.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I think you're talking about yourself."

"I see you haven't lost your bite."

"I see you've acquired one."

Rachel's smile grew, "Mad that I can keep up with you now?"

"Somewhat impressed."

"Quinn Fabray impressed, huh? I can't imagine that comes along too often."

"It doesn't."

"I've had my fair share of Quinn Fabrays in this city, I've had ample time to practice."

"Why aren't you seeing anyone?"

Rachel frowned, "What makes you assume that?"

"Kurt."

"He needs to keep his mouth shut."

"So why aren't you?"

"I don't want to."

It was Quinn's turn to pry, "Why not?"

"Commitment complicates things."

"What changed?"

"Nothing changed. I just haven't met anyone in this city I wanted to get complicated with."

"In this city implies there's someone in another city."

"You choose now to start being observant?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighed, "Nothing."

Quinn moved on, "You're not going to tell me who?"

Rachel leveled her with a playful glare, "Do you really want the details?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

Quinn laughed, "I'm torn between missing the old Rachel Berry and being intrigued by this new one."

"I'm still the same girl I was in Ohio."

"You just mask it well?"

Rachel shrugged, "I guess. I just built better walls."

"Did someone hurt you?"

Rachel scooted back from the table, "We should head over to the next bar."

Quinn stayed seated and continued to sip her drink, "So we've hit a topic that you don't want to talk about?"

"Exactly. Let's go."

"I'm not finished with my drink yet."

"I'll buy you a new one when we get to the next bar."

"I want this one."

Rachel swiftly grabbed the glass off the table and downed the remainder of the drink before handing it back to the girl, "All gone." She turned and walked towards the door.

By the time Quinn made it out of the bar, Rachel was standing on the curb with her hand in the air, hoping to hail a cab.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Let's go means let's go, Quinn."

"Clearly, I've hit a sore spot."

Rachel glanced at the girl from over her shoulder, "Yeah. You did."

"I'm not apologizing."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"Okay and now what's that supposed to mean?"

Rachel put her arm down, giving up on the cab for now. It would be impossible to hail a cab on that street anyway at that hour, unless someone was getting dropped off right in front of them. Rachel turned around, "It means that even if you did apologies, I wouldn't want it."

Rachel began walking down the sidewalk, toward the subway station, holding her arm up just in case by miracle a cab stopped for them.

Quinn struggled to keep up, "What else am I supposed to apologize for?"

"Nothing Quinn."

Quinn finally caught up and tugged on her other arm, getting Rachel to stop walking and face her again, "Tell me."

Rachel laughed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You _slept_ with _Santana_."

Quinn relaxed her grip on Rachel's black leather jacket and dropped her hand. She closed her eyes, already tired of this subject. It'd been haunting her, "Two years ago."

Rachel's eyes flashed, "Exactly. Two _years_ ago. Two fucking years."

Quinn's mouth dropped open, "Rach—"

"_Two_ years since I've seen you. Since I've _heard_ from you. And you show up, here, tonight, for Santana's birthday?" The disbelief was all over her face.

"Would you have rather me not come?"

Rachel didn't answer, "You gave me shit for sleeping with Finn when you had _Santana _in your bed?"

"The only reason I was even with Santana was because—" she stopped herself. They were starting to draw attention to themselves.

"No, what? Go ahead, say what you haven't been able to say for two years."

"Because you chose Finn."

"Is that what you think I did?"

Quinn was starting to get snarky, "Well, let's see, by sleeping with someone, I'd say you're choosing them."

"Over _you_, you mean. I chose Finn over you."

"Yeah I think it's pretty clear what I meant."

"So because I didn't get drunk and sleep with _you_, you had revenge sex with Santana to get back at me?"

"First of all, it wasn't revenge sex."

"What was it?"

Quinn was starting to get flustered, being put on the spot, "I don't know. A mistake. A drunk accident. It meant nothing."

"Is that what we were? A mistake? A drunk accident that meant nothing?"

Quinn gritted her teeth, "_No_." She composed herself, "You weren't supposed to find out about Santana."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less, Quinn."

"Why are you even hurt?"

Rachel stared blankly, "You're an idiot." She turned and began walking toward the street corner.

"Will you stop walking away from me?"

"Why? Not used to chasing after someone? You should try it more, it's oddly humbling."

Quinn tugged strongly on Rachel's arm and pulled her under an awning as the pedestrian walk sign illuminated.

"You don't get to be upset, and sarcastic, and a bitch to me over something that happened two years ago. I'm not perfect, Rachel. I'm far from it, and you've known all along. I made a mistake."

"No. You're right. You're absolutely right."

"Thank you."

"I'll just say fuck you for disappearing for two years and we'll call it a night."

Quinn growled, "You're absolutely infuriating, do you know that?"

"I've been told. By you actually, I believe." Rachel tapped her finger to her chin, "Now was it before or after we had sex?" Rachel looked back at Quinn with a shrug, "Doesn't matter I guess."

Quinn stared in muted shock. She didn't know this person. This bitter, hollowed out shell of someone she only thought she knew.

Kurt was right. She was different.

Quinn dropped her hand from Rachel's arm and stepped back in disbelief, "What happened to you?"

"_You_ happened to me," she leveled before shouldering passed her and stepping off the curb. Quinn felt her heart drop into her stomach as she saw Rachel turn around and continue to walk backwards as she crossed the street. She held her arms out, "You were the best and worst thing that's ever happened to me."

/

Quinn stepped onto the curb and looked up at the green awning. She supposed it was the right place but it didn't exactly look like the type of place Rachel Berry would frequent.

After finally getting in touch with Kurt to find out what bar they all were at, she made it there in one piece after miraculously finding a cab. Which apparently wasn't an actual cab because it cost her $20 to go 10 blocks, and had she known how close she was, she would have just walked.

It would have been worth it had Rachel actually been there. No one had seen her and Kurt suggested that she probably went back to their apartment, which is where Quinn began navigating to next, this time with the help of Kurt himself. And thank god, too, because she would have been lost had she attempted to do it by herself. After they got back to the apartment, Rachel was still nowhere to be found, which was when the panic set it.

"Calm down, I'm sure she's at _Murphy's_."

"Who is Murphy?" Quinn was seeing red.

"It's a bar not a person. It's two blocks away. She goes there when she wants to be alone."

"You let her go to a bar by herself?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. He was either too drunk to realize how dangerous it was, or she'd been going so long that it wasn't an issue.

She shook her head, the boy already had his phone to his ear, and before he propositioned Blaine to meet up for a late night booty call she demanded to know how to get to the bar Rachel was at.

She walked in, expecting to be carded, and was weirdly surprised when no one made a move to check her ID. It was nearly empty, only a few people sitting at the bar watching a west coast sports game, and a few others playing pool. It reminded her of an Irish speakeasy, and it had an oddly homey feel to it for being situated in the heart of Bushwick.

She spotted Rachel sitting at the bar and approached with caution. She didn't know what she was going to say to the girl when she found her, she just needed to find her. She'd been running from the girl for so long, it was time she chased.

Rachel scoffed as she looked to her right and saw Quinn take a seat next to her. She leant back on the barstool and stared into her nearly empty tumbler. She swirled the ice around, "Thought you'd be long gone by now."

"You're right, it's oddly humbling."

The bartender, who was an older man with black suspenders, approached Quinn with a coaster, "What'll it be, miss?"

"Um," she gestured, "Whatever she's having."

Rachel laughed, as if she was aware of something that Quinn wasn't and took another small sip of her drink.

"Thank you," Quinn said as the man placed the cup on the coaster.

"This one's on me," he winked before tending to another customer.

"I can see why you like this place," Quinn mused as she lifted her glass.

"Don't feel flattered, he says that to everyone. It's never on him."

Quinn coughed and hit her fist against her chest, "Jesus Christ, what are you drinking? Rubbing alcohol?"

Now she understood why Rachel was so amused.

"Scotch."

"Since when do you drink Scotch?"

"It feels good. How'd you find me? Santana?"

Quinn sidestepped the jab, "Kurt."

"Loud mouth."

"How often do you come here?"

"That depends, what did he tell you?"

"You come here when you want to be alone."

"And yet, you're still here."

"Yes. I am here. So drop the attitude."

Rachel lifted her glass again and took a small sip. Quinn did the same.

She had no idea what to say, or how to even begin repairing the tear in their relationship. It was much easier when Rachel was the one that was doing all the work. Following her around, and begging her to come back to glee club. How simple things were. When her biggest concern was what color to dye her hair. She wished she could stop caring again.

But even when she didn't care about anything, she still cared about Rachel.

She had no idea how to say the words out loud.

After a few more long moments of silence, Quinn finally spoke, "She's all yours now."

Rachel, who in her black leather jacket and black leather boots somehow fit in at this bar so well, turned to look at her with a curious expression.

"Those are the last words I heard you say. She's all yours."

Rachel stared at Quinn for a few seconds longer before she swallowed and went back to swirling the amber liquor in her glass. She laughed to herself, "I'm surprised you remember that."

"I remember everything from that night."

"I suppose that's to be expected."

Quinn could tell she was once again referring to Santana, she took the bait. "Yes, I slept with Santana. No, it didn't mean anything. Yes, I wished it were you. That's not why I remember, okay?"

"Then why?"

"Do you honestly think I could ever forget those words? The look on your face? How utterly disgusted you were with me? I got over the fact that you slept with Finn—" Rachel scoffed and Quinn corrected herself, "Fine. I'm still unnecessarily bitter. But not as upset as I was when I heard those words."

"Of all the things I've ever said to you, why remember those words."

"I knew you were done with me. That you wanted nothing to do with me. That out of _all _the things I've said or done to you, that was the breaking point."

"I didn't care that much. I was being dramatic."

"You weren't."

Rachel rubbed her forehead, "What's your point?"

Quinn shook her head, "Every time I thought about you, wondered what you were doing, or who you were with, those words echoed in my head. They're paralyzing."

"That's your excuse?"

"I'm not giving you an excuse, I'm giving you a reason."

"Same thing."

"A reason for why I'm still here."

"And that is?"

Quinn refused to let Rachel's indifference discourage her. She was doing it on purpose. It was her defense mechanism. "For two years, I heard those words. Remembered how your face fell, and what it felt like to watch you walk away from me. The worst feeling, the worst memory, maybe even the worst thing that's ever happened to me. And I've been through some shit," she laughed even though it was really rather sad, "It was my fault, and I know that. I've been told to leave my house, I've had to tell my boyfriend that the baby wasn't his, been through countless breakups, and I've even been told I might never walk again."

"Is there a point or am I just supposed to feel bad for you?"

"Out of all those conversations, that night in the hotel was by far the worst one I've had with someone," Quinn took a sip of her drink, "Until tonight." Quinn laughed softly, "You happened to me," she repeated and shook her head. "And I knew that if I left, I'd hear those words echoing in my mind, haunting me the way only you know how to do. That's why I'm here, I let you walk away from me once before, and I can't—I won't let it happen again. I can't spend another two years wondering what if, Rachel. I won't."

Rachel nodded before swallowing the rest of her drink and setting the glass on the bar top. She slid off the chair, "You don't really have a choice, Quinn."

She turned and walked out of the bar as Quinn struggled to pull money out of her jacket pocket to give the bartender for her drink. She downed her drink, needing something to quell her nerves, and took off after the brunette.

She found her walking towards the apartment and ran to catch up. Her arms were crossed over her body, huddled into herself, as she walked with her head down. Quinn eased up, not wanting to have another altercation on the sidewalks of New York, especially because the last one didn't turn out so well, and decided to quietly follow the brunette back to her apartment.

They walked up the five flights of stairs, their boots echoing through the stairwell, and she gave Rachel space as she heaved open the apartment door. She saw her bags still sitting on the couch but could tell the apartment was empty. Kurt must have gone to Blaine's apartment.

Quinn considered letting it all go but she just couldn't. She couldn't be in the same apartment with Rachel after all this time and not work things out. It'd been too long.

Rachel was in her bedroom, shouldering off her jacket when Quinn tugged on her arm to whirl her around, "What is your problem, Berry?"

She took a step back when she saw the wetness on her cheeks, "Why can't you just let it go?"

"You like to throw the blame on me, but can we just remember that you're the one who started this entire thing by sleeping with your ex-boyfriend after sleeping with me two weeks prior."

"If I recall correctly, we weren't dating. You have no reason to be mad."

"We weren't dating but we hooked up whenever we drank."

"And there it is." Rachel held her arms out, "You've finally figured it out. Good job Quinn." She walked towards her rack of clothes to find pajamas.

"What that we only hooked up when we drank?"

Rachel stopped and walked back towards Quinn, she pushed into her chest with her pointer finger, "No. It's that because you were drinking, you assumed and expected me to fall into your bed."

"And if _I_ recall correctly, we were in your bed all three times."

"And when it didn't happened, you got all pissed off and vengeful and slept with Santana. _Santana_. Don't tell me it didn't mean anything, because you knew _exactly _what you were doing. The fact of the matter is, you can't be with me unless you're drunk, and the fact that you slept with Santana when you couldn't have me, well that just proves you really don't care who's in your bed, as long as there's someone in your bed."

"Really? Coming from someone that was juggling three people at once? That's rich. You've been just as drunk as I've been all those times. In fact, you're the one that initiated it all three times. Yes, okay? I was pissed the night of the wedding, I already told you I wished it was you, but I've never played any games with you. You knew what you were getting into. I'm the one that had to sit on the sidelines and watch as you went back to Finn, time and _time_ again. We'd sleep together, and then you'd get back with him. It was clockwork."

"It wasn't like that."

"It _was_ like that, Rachel. You have no idea what that was like for me. What that felt like. You know what? I'm glad you found out about Santana because you're right, when I couldn't have you, I settled for her. Just like you settled for me when you couldn't have Finn."

"That's not true."

"Admit it, I will _always _be your second choice."

Rachel shook her head and wiped her tears with her hand, "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Just say it, Rachel. I was your second choice."

"You were never my second choice."

"Third, fourth, fifth? What was it, huh?"

"Drop it," Rachel replied as she moved away.

Quinn followed, "That bad, huh? Just admit that I was the distraction. Put us both out of our misery."

Rachel exhaled deeply before slowly stepping back towards Quinn, "You were never the distraction."

"What was I?"

"You were always my first choice, you asshole. Finn became the distraction, Brody was to pass the time, you—" Rachel placed her palms on either side of Quinn's cheeks, she ducked closer, "_you_ are who I wanted."

Quinn should have been relieved, but all she could focus on was one word, "Wanted?"

Rachel's hands slowly slid from her face until they were back protecting her body, "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Quinn tried to reach for her before she slowly slipped away, "Don't do this."

"I needed you, Quinn. You'll never know how badly."

"I'm here now."

"I needed you then."

"Rachel, had I known…"

"You'd what?" she laughed to herself, "My entire world fell apart and you were nowhere to be found. Had you _known_? Finn died and you didn't even come to the memorial. Not one phone call, or email, or text. Nothing. For two years. You didn't think I would need you? You did know."

"I didn't know what to say."

"I didn't need you to say anything, I just needed to know that you were there." A sob escaped passed Rachel's lips as her small frame began to shake, "I hate you for that. I hate you so much. I hate that I _still_ need you."

Quinn took a bold step forward, fully prepared to be shoved away, and continued until her arms were firmly wrapped around the brunette. Rachel clung to her as her cries ripped through her body, as Quinn began to rub her palm in reassuring circles across her back.

"I hate you."

"I know," Quinn whispered, "It's okay, I know. Shhh, it's okay."

"I lost both of you."

Quinn finally felt the tears stinging her eyes. She was trying desperately to be strong for Rachel. She at least owed her that. But the words hit her, shook her to her very core, because up until that night, Rachel considered Quinn gone.

"I haven't showed it, but I've always been here. You never left my mind," she said softly and held Rachel closer.

She could feel Rachel begin to pull back after another minute and Quinn reluctantly released her hold. The brunette wiped furiously at her eyes, black makeup smearing everywhere, "You're not exactly an easy person to forget."

Quinn chuckled softly, reaching forward to help Rachel fix her eyeliner, "But you've tried, at least."

"Desperately."

Quinn cupped her cheek, "I didn't even try."

Rachel took a step back and blew out a shaky breath, "I didn't care so much that it was Santana, I cared that it wasn't me. That I did that in the first place and practically pushed you towards her. It wasn't worth it."

Quinn shook her head, "Let's not. It's not an issue." Quinn ducked her head and locked eyes, "Are you okay?"

Rachel laughed and gestured to her face, her eyes felt swollen and red, "Embarrassed mostly."

"Don't be."

She nodded, "I'm gonna go—" she gestured towards her face again, "Wash up for bed."

Quinn stepped aside before following her out to the living room. She rifled through her bag to find her pajamas and sat on the couch as she waited for Rachel to be done in the bathroom.

She glanced at the clock on the TV and saw that it was a little past two am. It had been a long day. Traveling from New Haven to New York, having lunch with Santana and Brittany, the back and forth with Rachel all night, she was exhausted. The conversation needed to happen, there was no doubt about that, but damn did it take a lot out of her.

She glanced around the apartment, it was pretty much the same as the last time she had been there. Minor upgrades here and there. A few new furniture pieces. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, hoping to take a pre-emptive strike on the hangover she was bound to have the next morning. She poured one for Rachel as well.

She wasn't sure where they stood, but things were out in the open now, things neither of them probably wanted out in the open, but that was one of the consequences of drinking.

Rachel walked out of the bathroom with a clean face and took the water Quinn offered her before she walked into her bedroom to change. Quinn steadied herself in the mirror. She surmised that she's probably looked better. She began washing her face, taking her time with all of her rituals, hoping Rachel would be fast asleep by the time she was done. It wasn't that she wanted to avoid Rachel for the rest of the night, it was that she wanted to avoid the awkwardness. Normally they were stumbling into a bed together, not caring where their clothes ended up. But now, now was probably the drunkest they've ever been together yet the most sober.

She finished up and walked back out to the living room to find her bags were gone. She peered into Rachel's room to find her pulling back her comforter.

The girl glanced up, "You don't want to be stuck on the couch when they get home."

"It's fine, I don't mind."

Rachel's expression changed from thoughtful to slightly pained, "I don't want to be alone."

Quinn nodded, not needing to hear anymore, and dropped her things on top of the duffel bag that now laid on the floor.

Rachel got under her covers as Quinn turned off the light and joined her. Both girls lay on their back, staring at the ceiling, and it wasn't lost on either of them how different things were between them.

After a few minutes, enough for Quinn to assume Rachel had passed out, she cleared her throat, "I'm sorry."

Quinn rolled her head to the side, "I'm the one that's sorry. I don't blame you if you never want to see me again."

"It was hard enough the first time," Rachel sighed, "I know it didn't seem like it, but I'm really glad you're finally here."

"I'm sorry I haven't come sooner."

Rachel shifted underneath the covers, "I know you came to see my show."

Quinn felt her heart drop into her stomach. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, "How?" she whispered.

Rachel laughed softly, "Santana."

Quinn shifted this time onto her side so she could see Rachel's face. It was hard to see but her eyes were beginning to adjust and she could just make out her outline thanks to the colonial windows on the far wall, "You were never supposed to find out."

"Why?"

Quinn sighed, "Because I knew you'd be mad."

"I was," she answered non-committedly, "But a bigger, more insisting part of me was happy you came at all."

"I guess a part of me knew how badly I'd messed up. I guess I was just trying to delay the conversation we had tonight."

"It needed to happen."

"I know."

"Are we okay?"

"I'm okay if you're okay."

"I'm better than I was."

"That's fair."

"So what'd you think?"

"Of what?"

Rachel laughed, "The play."

"You were incredible."

"Do you mean that?"

"I do."

"You're not just saying it because you're drunk?"

Quinn lazily laughed into her pillow, "It would be true regardless, you're only hearing it because I'm drunk."

"What else haven't I heard because you were sober?"

"Go to sleep."

Rachel chuckled and shifted towards her, "You're right, I've never heard those words come out of your mouth sober."

Quinn opened an eye to find Rachel's eyes on her, "You're beautiful."

Rachel shifted her gaze with a conserved smile, "Say it sober and I'll believe you."

Quinn reached forward and blindly grabbed for Rachel's hand. She brought it to her lips and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it before she settled their entwined hands in between them.

"Stop getting me drunk and maybe you'll hear it sober."

She felt the bed shake with Rachel's laugh, "You're infuriating."

Quinn smiled sluggishly, sleep was beginning to consume her, "Would you have me any other way?"

It was a few seconds before Rachel finally whispered, "No, I don't think I would."

/

She cracked an eye open as she heard loud laughter coming from the living room. She peered over and found that she was alone in Rachel's bed. A glance to the alarm clock and it was nearly noon. Her head throbbed a bit as she sat up and reached for the rest of her water, but she counted her blessings because she could have been far more hungover.

She padded across the hardwood floor slowly and offered a sleepy grimace when Brittany and Santana cheered at her presence.

"There's the princess."

Quinn squinted her eyes, "Are you still drunk?"

"Signs point to yes, Fabray. And I'll tell ya, I feel great."

"21 looks good on you," Quinn mumbled before walking into the kitchen.

She found Rachel nursing a hot cup of coffee as she leant against the counter. Quinn poured herself a cup and stood next to her.

She sighed.

"What time is your train?"

"They run every hour."

"Ah right, I should know that."

Quinn grunted, "You would if you came to visit."

Rachel set her mug down before licking her lips, "I don't want to lose touch again."

Quinn turned towards her, "I don't either."

"What do we do about this?"

Quinn chuckled, "I bought the metro passes last time."

Rachel leveled her with a glare, "I mean it, Quinn."

The blonde set her coffee down and rested both hands on Rachel's shoulders, "I know. I'm just letting you know, school's going to get hectic soon. My finals start in two weeks and I start my summer internship after that."

Rachel hid her pout by biting her bottom lip, "I have showcases and finals and yeah, I'm just as busy."

Quinn dropped her hands from her shoulder and shrugged, "Okay well, no pressure then. No expectations. If it works out that we have a weekend off, then we'll get together."

Rachel nodded, "Okay."

Quinn picked up her coffee mug and offered a confused smirk, "Did we just have a sober conversation?"

Rachel nearly choked on the hot liquid, "Not sure, I'm most likely still drunk.

Quinn shrugged, "Well, we tried."

"We did."

* * *

><p>Quinn lounges back in her bar stool as she glances at the clock in front of her. Each tick gets louder and louder as the second hand never stops moving, passing each number as if it's not a big deal. Each second that goes by is a second closer to seeing Rachel.<p>

She's not sure what to expect tonight because she hasn't seen the girl in over a week. It's the same routine each time, meet at _Murphy's_ pub for a few drinks, end up having a few too many, take a cab back to one of their apartments, and stumble into bed together. It's not complicated. It's them. It's what they've always done.

It's been three years since the first time she walked in the small little bar. Her dimly lit sanctuary. The only place she could be herself. It's been two years since she graduated college. And a year since she moved to New York. She thought about staying in Connecticut, maybe heading to Boston for a change of scenery, but something always kept her mind on New York.

She could probably guess what.

Not a what, but a who.

Rachel.

The girl that found this bar long before Quinn made it hers. The girl that wiggled her way into Quinn's life before Quinn could even realize it was happening. The girl that still had no idea the effect she had on her.

She brought her tumbler to her lips and took a sip as she thought about the last year. Being in the same city as Rachel was harder than she thought it would be. She was up to the challenge, but neither of them made it easy for the other. It's just how they were. She's not sure she'd have it any other way.

She thinks back to the first time she was in this bar, unaware of the role it would have in her future, the night her and Rachel finally showed their hands, and the morning after.

She thinks about the occasional text she'd get from Rachel at three in the morning, misspelled, and too honest to be created while sober. She was guilty of the same thing.

Her senior year flew by, which is how it goes in most cases, and before she knew it, Quinn was back in her old bedroom at her mom's house for the summer. She didn't mind it. She lived in a beautiful brownstone apartment around the corner from the Yale campus for three years, having to move out after graduation because the lease expired.

She let it expire.

One of many decisions she made that would ultimately bring her to call New York her home. Judy loved it. Her daughter, the Yale graduate. Certainly better than her own degree from Bryn-Mawr, or her ex-husband's from Penn.

Quinn took the summer after graduation off, needing one after the busy year she had, and focused on the things she loved. She read, and she wrote, and she took a cooking class at the community center. She occasionally applied for jobs, and somehow always ended up looking in the tri-state area. It wasn't on purpose. Well, maybe a little.

She found herself in a one-bedroom apartment by the end of September. One that her mother helped her pay for until she began making enough money. It didn't take long. She liked her first job, but it wasn't until she worked for a different company that she really fell in love with it.

The first time she saw Rachel after moving to the city, they met for drinks at Rachel's favorite bar.

The bar she was currently in now as she waited for the brunette to show her face.

It looked a little different from the last time she'd been in it, which was nearly two years before, but maybe that's because Quinn hadn't been looking at her surroundings.

She remembers how she found Rachel at one of the booths, a pitcher of beer, and two pint glasses already on the table. Rachel jumped up as she saw her, pulling her in for a hug.

"You look great!"

Quinn shyly ducked her head, "Thanks, so do you."

Rachel poured some beer for Quinn and slid it across the table, "I can't believe you live here now, how do you like it?"

Quinn took a long pull and nodded, "It's definitely going to take some getting used to. I have to remember to not go crazy at the grocery store, and not to get into the black town cars when I need a cab."

Rachel laughed heartily, "See? You're already a New Yorker."

"How are things?"

"Good, still living with Kurt and Santana. I'm waiting to hear back from this director for a role I auditioned for. Just kind of doing the same old thing."

"Good, that's great."

Rachel leaned forward as if she was sharing a secret, "I can't believe you're here, it's been what?"

"Forever."

"It feels like it."

"Yet it feels like I just saw you."

"I know."

Quinn held up her glass and Rachel clinked hers against it, "To New York."

It became their routine. Every few Saturday nights, like clockwork. Sometimes the times changed, other times the bar changed, but the one thing they could count on was one another's company.

It was comforting, and normal.

Until it wasn't.

It was a week ago when Rachel and Quinn had blindly stumbled into the blonde's apartment. She's lost count of how many times they've been together.

This night was different because Rachel had finally had enough.

Rachel turned her head as Quinn went to kiss her. It wasn't anything alarming, Quinn easily found purchase on the soft skin of her neck. It wasn't until Rachel pushed her shoulders away that Quinn realized Rachel was not in the mood.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm over this."

"W-what?"

"This," she gestured between them, "I can't drink myself into a stupor every time we meet up."

"No one is asking you to."

"It's like our unofficial rule."

"I didn't know it bothered you."

Rachel sat on the bed as she put her shirt back on, "At first the two am texts were exciting, and I'll admit, I loved it. I loved getting to see you after a rough week, but—"

Quinn sat next to her, giving her undivided attention, "But what?"

"I'm a booty call."

"You are not."

"Name one instance where we've been sober together."

Quinn was stumped and she knew she shouldn't be, "I, uhh."

Rachel sighed, "Look, I don't know how we fell into this routine, but I can't anymore."

Quinn's face dropped, "That's it?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "No, that's not it." she stepped closer and cupped her cheek, "I want you, Quinn. I've wanted you for quite some time, but I want _all_ of you. Not random hookups, or texts at three AM telling me to come over. I've seen your rare and fleeting moments of sincerity and honesty. I've seen you with your guard down. I know you want more."

Quinn closed her eyes, "I'll hurt you."

"You won't."

"I don't deserve you Rachel, not the way you want."

Rachel sighed before she placed a small kiss on the girl's forehead, "I don't believe that for a second."

"Please don't go."

"I need some time."

"How long?" Quinn couldn't do anything to mask the panic.

Rachel reached the door to Quinn's apartment, "Just, I'll meet you at Murph's? Saturday at 9? You can tell me your answer then."

"What's your question?"

Rachel laughed, it should have been obvious, "I want dates. And lunches. And walks in the daytime. Movies and shy kisses. I want to show you off to my friends at work, and I want to have dinner parties with you. I want to be sober when I kiss you. I want you to be my girlfriend, Quinn."

Her demands are still lingering in her mind.

It's nearly 9 o'clock, as Lucky reminds her when he walks by with an excited smile. She shakes her head, she still isn't ready to face Rachel. She's not sure how she'll react or what she'll say. She takes a sip from her glass, the cold liquid soothing her dry throat, and waits patiently for the brunette to join her.

It's not much longer. Maybe three minutes before the door opens, and she just knows. She knows in a way that maybe should scare her but doesn't. A way that's familiar to her. She hears the boots across the tile floor, and smells her signature perfume, long before the barstool slides out next to her. Rachel plops down and puts her purse on the bar.

Quinn doesn't miss the way her face falls, she doesn't mistake the sigh she makes under her breath, and she pretends not to feel heartbroken when Rachel meets her eye, and all she sees is disappointment.

She huffs again, and drops her hand to the bar top as she waits for the bartender, "Whatever," she mumbles and Quinn knows it's a dig meant for her ears only.

"How was your day?" Quinn asks.

"Fine. Yours?"

"Long."

Lucky finally appears in front of Rachel with a grin, "What'll it be, sweetheart? On me."

She shakes her head, clearly irritated, "Whatever she's having."

"Coming right up, doll."

Rachel finally turns to her, "So I guess we're still doing this?"

"Look, Rach," Quinn begins, "What we have is, I don't know, special. It's the highlight of my day whenever I get to be with you. It hasn't always been easy. Things, and people, and miles kept us apart but we've always somehow done our own thing."

Lucky sets Rachel's drink down on the coaster and walks away.

She reaches blindly and takes a sip.

Quinn swallows and continues, it's not easy.

"I'm not good at expressing myself like you are."

"Clearly."

She pushes on, expecting the jab, "I'm not someone that can just let go, and not care about things. I need something to help me through it."

Rachel takes another sip, as does Quinn. Her throat is still dry.

"And I realized, I was crediting the wrong thing. It's you I need. You're the one that makes me feel like I could move mountains, and you're the one that's on my mind whether my brain is functioning or not."

Rachel perks up a bit, "What are you saying?"

Quinn laughs and reaches for Rachel's hand, "I'm saying that you've been sitting here, clearly irritated with me, and you haven't even noticed you're drinking cranberry juice."

"What?" Quinn hides her grin, as Rachel lifts up the glass.

"It's just cranberry juice. I'm sorry to kill your buzz."

Rachel's eyes flash as she brings her attention back to Quinn.

"You haven't been drinking at all?" Quinn can tell she's tempted to taste her glass so she slides it towards her.

She holds up her pinky, "Promise."

"You're serious?"

Quinn's trying not to be offended, "I'm not an alcoholic, Rach. I drink, sure, but I don't need to."

"I know, I know, I'm just… really?"

Quinn leans forward and catches Rachel off guard with a slow kiss. She pulls away and rests her forehead on Rachel's, "I'm terrified of hurting you but I'm more terrified of losing you."

Rachel draws little patterns on Quinn's neck with her nail, "I feel like the room is spinning."

Quinn quirks an amused eyebrow, "Have _you_ been drinking?"

Rachel blushes and shakes her head, "The room always spins when I'm with you." She admits softly, only for Quinn's ears. "Yet you're the only one that can ground me."

The blonde can't help the growing smile that spreads across her face, she tucks a strand of Rachel's hair behind her ear, "I thought we could go see a movie and grab something to eat afterwards."

Rachel chuckles softly, "How unbelievably…" she trails off, searching for the right word.

"Boring?"

Rachel nods, an amused smile tugging at her lips, "But somehow perfect."

"I was hoping it would be."

Lucky appears in front of them again, setting down two shot glasses upside down on the bar, he hits the mahogany with a fist. "A celebration is in order. What'll it be? On the house. I mean it this time."

Quinn's eyes fly over Rachel's features. She takes in the rose tint to her cheeks, her sparkling irises, and her bleached teeth as they show behind glossed lips. She squeezes Rachel's hand before she turns to the bartender, "Not tonight, Luck."

He holds his hands to his chest in jest, "You break my heart."

They slide off the barstools and Quinn grabs Rachel's purse for her before following her out of the small, dimly lit bar. They get to the street and Rachel settles into her side as they stroll towards the subway station.

It's a familiar scene but it's so very different from every other time they've done this.

It's everything she's wanted from Rachel since the beginning. Rachel's nails lightly scratch her hip as they continue to walk and Quinn places a chaste kiss on her temple. Because she wants to. Because she can.

She realizes she can do it whenever she wants and it's the best feeling in the world. It's a thought that makes her drunk with passion. She stops walking and when Rachel glances up to ask her why they're stopping, she swallows her words with a sound kiss.

Rachel's winded when Quinn finally pulls away and punctuates it with an innocent kiss to her lips.

"You're breathtaking," Quinn whispers once Rachel opens her eyes,  
>"And I think I've been in love with you since high school." Quinn's dumbfounded and Rachel can tell, "Is that even possible?"<p>

Rachel leans forward and briefly connects their lips, "Believe me, it's possible."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you."

Rachel shrugs, "Just a few drinks. Besides, it took me just as long."

Quinn laughs and shakes her head, "Could we have done it any other way?"

"Us?" Rachel kisses her once more before settling back into her side so they can continue walking, "No. I don't think we could."


End file.
